


Angelface

by kisahawklin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Offscreen Sam, Smartass Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 19:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9287222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/pseuds/kisahawklin
Summary: Just your average Destiel College/Superpowers/Enemies to Friends to Lovers AU.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeanOh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanOh/gifts).



> I went with your "Enemies to Friends to Lovers" prompt, and for whatever reason, this is what came out. I am both deeply sorry and terribly amused. Hope you like it, DeanOh!

~~~

_"So what's it like?"_

"Same as ever. Lousy with Angels – do they breed like rabbits? Or maybe hatch from eggs? There were twelve that I counted and I'm sure I missed some."

 _"Ignore them, Dean. And I'm sure they're not_ all _assholes – Dad probably just pissed most of them off."_

"Wish you were here. Why'd you have to go to school on the other coast?"

_"Dean, you're in Chicago. It's not on a coast."_

"Lake Michigan has a coast."

_"Dean."_

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Tell me about lawyer school."

_"It's not law school, Dean, it's a pre-law program. And it's tough. And boring. And it'd take me longer to explain it to you than could ever be worth it. So tell me about superhero school. What classes did you have today?"_

"Media relations, history, and powers training lecture. Another freaking Angel – Metatron, can you believe it? That weirdo is media relations."

 _"Dean, he is_ the _expert in the field. Just because you know a different side of him doesn't mean he doesn't know what he's talking about when it comes to Twitter. Tell me you have a Twitter."_

"Ugh, Sam! Don't even start with me."

_"You have to have one for class, don't you."_

"Shut up."

_"Fine. What do you have tomorrow?"_

"Powers lab and tactics."

_"Who'd you get for powers lab? Victor, or Gordon?"_

"Victor. And I think I probably got lucky on that one."

_"Yeah. How was history? Did you get a chance to talk to Bobby?"_

"Nah, I had Media right afterward and I didn't want to start the year with one of the Angels pissed off at me already."

_"Hmm, smart move. You got Grampa for tactics tomorrow?"_

"Yeah. Not really looking forward to that one, either. I've never been his favorite."

_"You're not a Campbell, you were never going to be his favorite. Have you seen Gwen or Christian around?"_

"Nope, thanks for small favors."

_"Listen, Dean, I have to study and it's getting late here. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"_

"Yeah, all right, bitch."

_"Jerk."_

~~~

It figures that the one class he wants most to impress in, he'd be late to. Somehow he'd managed to set his alarm just for Mondays, and waking up well-rested was awesome until he realized his class was in ten minutes on the other side of campus. He's secretly thankful Sam convinced him to live in the dorms; he wouldn't have even made the class if he was still staying at home.

He throws on jeans, a t-shirt, and a flannel over the top and runs out the door, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

When he gets to the lecture hall, he's three minutes late, and he can hear the professor talking already. He tries to open the door as slowly as possible, but of course it creaks, so every inch is painfully obvious. 

Someone rips the door open from the inside, and when he looks up guiltily, he sees an Angel with messy dark hair and bright blue eyes. His wings are spread and somehow, they look annoyed.

"Get in and take a seat," he hisses, and Dean ducks his head and grabs the first open seat at the back of the lecture hall.

"Dean Winchester," Samuel says, drawing his name out with disdain. "So glad you could join us."

Dean doesn't answer. He's pretty sure he's not supposed to say anything in lecture classes, and besides, he's scooted so far down his seat, his diaphragm is wedged in his throat.

"So as I was saying," Samuel says, "We will be considering famous battle tactics, using practical scenarios as part of your powers training, and you will have both a written and practical final." 

Dean groans. He's a scrapper, he's always been good at brute force, especially if anyone threatens something dear to him – which, when he and Sam went out together, happened all the time – but most of the time he's just not able to put together intricate plans before attacking. He doesn't have the patience.

Samuel starts talking and Dean starts taking notes. It's been years since he did this and he's really rusty – he can't keep up with Samuel at all, and he feels a little like he's drowning. He did the required reading - three chapters in two different books – but he can barely remember them now. He hadn't realized they were related at the time, and he still isn't completely sure of the way they connect.

The rest of the students are taking notes on their computers, and Dean wishes he'd thought of that. Last time he was in school, you weren't supposed to bring computers into the classroom. Things have changed a hell of a lot, and he's feeling mighty old.

There's a tsking sound behind him, and he sees the Angel hovering, looking at his pathetic notes. "If that's what you're getting out of Dr. Campbell's lecture, I'd think about dropping the class until you're more prepared to absorb the information." 

'Thanks for the advice, _Angel_ ," Dean whispers with as much venom as he can muster, "But I've got this. And if you could shut up so I can hear the lecture, that'd be great."

The Angel tsks again but backs off, pacing the back of the lecture hall in an incredibly distracting manner.

At the end of the lecture, Samuel instructs them to provide some basic information about themselves and their powers to the TA so they can plan out some scenarios for the practical class on Thursday. Then he says, "Please give them Castiel on your way out," and Dean groans. He should have known there wasn't an Angel hanging out in the back of the lecture hall for no reason.

He fills out the info on a piece of paper, packing up quickly and muscling his way through the throng of teenagers headed the other direction, thinking he might apologize to Samuel for being late. Can't hurt to start doing the meek, obedient act, see if he can pretend to be one of the Campbell kids for one class. Samuel leaves through a door in the front of the auditorium before Dean gets up to him, though, and he has to turn around and follow the wave of students as they funnel out past Castiel and hand him their hand-written notes. 

"Dean Winchester," the Angel says to him as he walks up, paper held out in front of him like a shield.

"Yep," Dean says, offering the piece of paper with a little shake. Castiel looks down at it and raises an eyebrow as he reads. "You're John Winchester's son?"

Dean rolls his eyes. Everyone wants to know about John, about what it's like to be the kid of a supervillain. He's sick of it. "Yeah. I got another class to get to, do you want this or not, Angelface?"

Castiel's eyes light up with surprise, which isn't exactly what Dean was going for, and Angelface is far from his best insult, but he's having a bad day, he can't be blamed for being a little off his game.

"Well, Dean," Castiel says, and Dean swears he can hear laughter in Castiel's voice, "perhaps you might consider a tutor for this class. You seem to need a little extra assistance."

~~~

Dean punches speed dial on his phone as soon as he's out of the lecture hall, hoping Sam isn't in the middle of something. Of course he is, and Dean leaves a long, scathing voicemail about how stupid tactics is and how their Grampa is a dick and how Angels suck, in particular Castiel, who is now going to make his life a living hell for the next several months. Longer, if Dean doesn't figure out how to get a different TA next semester.

Sam calls him back twenty minutes later as he's picking up his lunch.

_"Suck it up, Dean, and get a tutor."_

"I don't wanna," Dean whines, because he knows Sam's right, and he knows he's going to cave.

_"Listen, Dean, you're great, okay? You've got more heart than all the rest of those dopes, and great instincts. You just need to learn to keep your cool in a battle, how to think your way through, sometimes. So you need tactics. Especially if that Angel TA is on your ass already. So suck it up and get a damn tutor."_

Damn it. The kid's right. Dean wishes again that Sam was back with him, that he wasn't in some mundie college learning some stupid non-hero crap.

_"It's not crap, Dean, and I miss you too. Now go get a tutor."_

~~~

Dean gets to the student center early. He may not want to be here, but the sooner he starts, the sooner he's finished, and he has a quiz on two chapters of history reading tomorrow. He just hopes his tutor feels the same about being on time as he does.

And of course, because the universe hates him, in walks Castiel, wings spread wide like he's about to take off or something.

"Not you," Dean whines.

"Yes, me," Castiel answers, rolling his eyes. "And you should be thankful it is."

"Why?"

Castiel smirks, a nasty little grin. "Because the only other tactics tutor available is my sister Rachel, and she hates you even more than I do."

"Isn't this a conflict of interest?" Dean asks. He is going to _murder_ Sam for making him do this.

Castiel's eyes lose a little of their edge, but his voice is cold as ice when he answers, "My job is to help students. You're a student, you need help. You need _lots_ of help."

"Hardy har har, Angelface." Dean pulls out his book and notebook and sets them out on the table. "Where do we start?"

~~~

_"It's a time-tested teaching tool, Dean."_

"It's for kids in junior high, for crying out loud. It was embarrassing."

_"Did you learn it?"_

"I learned that Castiel is just another dick Angel."

_"Dean, did you learn it?"_

"Yeah, Sam, I learned it. I get the strategy behind the battle. I don't really see how that relates to what I do. It was only us, and now it's only me, I don't have a whole army to work with."

 _"That's why you're going to school, Dean. School isn't really about learning all that shit – it's about making friends and figuring out_ life _and you know. How not to be a dick._

"Well, the Angels have been in school forever and all of them are still dicks."

 _"Dean, they're not_ in _school, they practically run the place. It's not the same. If you could let your guard down a little, get to know one of the nicer ones, maybe it'd be different."_

"Oh, right, one of the nicer ones. Who would that be?"

_"I got along with Muriel okay, back in high school. And you know, Gabriel's got a reputation for being a decent guy, and standing up to his family now and again."_

"Whatever, bitch."

_"Jerk. Screw off and go study already."_

~~~

Of course they have the tactics practicum with all four of the tactics classes, and of _course_ all the classes' TAs are angels. Castiel, of course, Rachel, Bartholomew, and Hannah. Not a single non-Angel TA.

They're assigned teams and given matching armbands as they come to the dome, and he sits down with his team and gets to know them for the first few minutes. 

He and Jo know each other, somewhat. She's young, but she used to hang around when they were kids, tripping them with her bursts of super-speed. Her dad and their dad knew each other somehow. They haven't seen each other since her dad died, though, and the fact that she hadn't come to their dad's funeral pretty much told Dean everything he needed to know. She meets his eyes and nods an impersonal greeting.

He knows Meg – the only other "non-traditional" student in their group – by reputation. She'd gone off the reservation for a while, joined a cult of telepathy types or some kind of nonsense, but he'd heard she'd cleaned up her act, and it's kind of nice having someone closer to his own age in the group.

Cole (x-ray vision), Charlie (tech whisperer), Samandriel (invisibility – on top of being an Angel, which seems wholly unfair), and Kevin (plant manipulation) round out their group, and Dean's feeling pretty good about the mix of stuff they've got going on, though he absolutely hates that it's not an even number. They will never, ever be able to pair off – their will always be someone alone or in a group of three. He supposes that's part of what they're here to learn.

They're the third team up, which is great, because they get to watch the first two teams get their asses handed to them by the teachers and TAs. The only person on the team that's not an Angel is Samuel Campbell, and his superpower is telepathy, like all the Campbells, so he basically calls the shots and the Angels do their thing, taking everyone out. It's standard strategy and makes sense on a huge battlefield like this one, especially since the only Angel with an extra gift is Bartholomew, and it's fire manipulation. The first team leaves the field with a ton of burns and missing half their eyebrows. 

The second team figures out they need to split up, but with Samuel in a booth up high calling the shots and five flyers to round everybody up, they don't last long either. The only one that gives them a challenge is Speedy, which is Dean's nickname for everyone with super-speed. This girl's name is Madison – totally Sam's type, at least, the last time Dean checked. 

He sets aside sudden ache of missing Sam because Madison makes it apparent that the Angels have some kind of sign language they use to communicate commands, and Samuel may be looking at the big picture, Naomi is calling the plays from the air. 

Dean's sharing the play by play with his team – he knows that they need someone to take out Samuel and Naomi to have a chance in hell. The other Angels are no slouches but without those two calling the shots, they should be easier to pick off – especially if they don't lose anyone along the way.

That's as much as he's got – he can't even remember half his teams' powers and has no idea who to stick where, but thankfully, they've got a Sam-like brain going on with Kevin and a master-strategist-in-the-making with Charlie.

"I can't do much good in a straight up battle," Charlie says, "but I can probably manage to shift the lights to blind Samuel and keep him busy, if someone can watch my back." 

"I'm the same," Cole tells them. "I can fight, don't get me wrong, but I can't do anything superpowered on a battlefield, and I'm pretty sure I don't want to figure out if I bounce when I get dropped from the top of the dome. I can stick with Charlie."

"I think Meg should call the plays the way Samuel is doing," Kevin offers. "And maybe Samandriel can fly her up so she can see the whole field."

"That means Jo's going to have to get them to chase her, and bring the Angels down low enough to the ground that Kevin can grab them with the grass," Charlie finishes. 

"Uh, wait," Dean says, going over the plan in his head and finding himself completely missing. "What am I doing?"

Team 2's speedster goes down in a well-timed swoop of Castiel's that Dean grudgingly admits is pretty good work. 

When he turns back from the field, the whole team is looking at him. "What?" he asks, feeling weirdly defensive. 

"You never said what your power was, Winchester," Cole says. 

"Oh. Invulnerability. Limited – I have to concentrate, so I can't move a whole lot when I turn it on, except things I've trained to do, some combat stuff that's so ingrained I don't have to think about it any more."

"Huh," Meg says, giving Dean the once over. He doesn't know if he's flattered or grossed out. 

"So can you make a shield for someone else?" Charlie asks. "Or just… _be_ a shield for someone else?"

"Yeah," Dean says, because that is one of the basic four fighting scenarios he and Sam use a lot, though Sam does okay in a fight – just not with against super strength or speed. "But only on one side – we have to find something or someone to watch his back."

"Samandriel can do that once he drops Meg off in the top box," Charlie says. 

Dean looks Meg up and down. "Can you handle yourself in a fight?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Against an Angel? Sure."

He's not sure if it's sarcasm or not, but they're up so it doesn't matter. He's not feeling particularly good about their chances – even if Charlie can get Samuel out of the game, they don't have anyone that can take Naomi out. 

Still, they line up, armbands on, and scatter in small groups as soon as the whistle blows. He hears Meg's voice in his head, yelling at him to back Kevin up against the dome and put up his invulnerability. He does, just barely avoiding getting burnt to a crisp by a fireball.

He's too busy keeping his eyes out for threats to really get a sense of what's going on, but when Jo speeds past them and Kevin does some weird thing with the grass to trap an Angel in it – Hannah, he thinks – he can't help smirking. 

It's risky, just having him and Kevin out in the open. They're currently invulnerable, sure, but Dean does eventually get tired, and every one of the Angels will know where they are when it happens. 

_"Move, Winchester,"_ Meg yells at him, and then, _"I can't see, I need a pick up."_

The problem with telepathy is that it's one way, so he doesn't know if Samandriel is even still viable, and besides, he has Kevin to protect. "All right, kid, we gotta move, get some extra protection."

Kevin's got his hand on Dean's back – a silent way of letting Dean know he's okay. Sam used to do it too, though he always hooked a finger in the belt loop of Dean's jeans, a leftover from when they were kids. "All right, moving left," he says, starting to move slowly, making sure Kevin is completely shielded by his body. 

Suddenly everything shifts the other direction, there's a grunt and Kevin's hand is gone, and Dean's falling backward, his back hitting the wall of the dome. When he looks up, he's surrounded by Angels.

When he looks down, he's practically sitting on Castiel, who has tackled Kevin and has him in a submission hold. 

"Drop the invulnerability, Dean, or your teammate will get a dislocated shoulder," Castiel says. 

Kevin struggles, but Dean knows they're not kidding. A lot of the non-super strength kids have injuries for their whole undergrad. He's not going to be responsible for that.

"Stop, Kev, it's fine." He lowers the invulnerability and gets tackled for his trouble, Rachel actually sitting on his stomach in victory. Castiel wasn't kidding, she really hates him.

~~~

_"So who won?"_

"Nobody. We all lost. Team six bagged three angels, though, more than anybody else. We got one, and I tell you, plant stuff is scary. I don't like plants doing that shit."

_"So was it graded?"_

"Yeah, on a curve. We got a B because we took out an Angel and managed to keep Samuel out of the game for most of it. Team six got an A, there were a bunch of Cs, and the first team failed."

_"The ones that got fireballed?"_

"Yeah."

_"Doesn't seem fair – the later teams would have the advantage."_

"You'd think, but apparently only team six was paying attention. The rest of them made the same mistakes as an earlier team."

_"No learning from history there."_

"Nope. Though Kevin was pretty smart for such a young kid."

_"Sounds like you're enjoying it."_

"Shut up."

_"How was Castiel?"_

"What do you mean, how was Castiel? He was Castiel. An Angel. An asshole."

_"Mmm hmm."_

"Don't 'mmm hmm' me. He's an Angel. We hate each other. It's genetic or something."

_"That's why you were so impressed by the way he took Kevin out."_

"I wasn't impressed."

_"You didn't stop talking about it for fifteen minutes, Dean."_

"I was annoyed. It was a cheap shot."

_"No, it was strategic. And sneaky. You like that."_

"Shut up. Go to bed, bitch."

_"You go to bed, jerk. It's only ten thirty here."_

~~~

The first quarter goes quickly. Classes and labs and powers training, it's all exhausting. Dean can tell his endurance is getting better, though, and his ability to use his power as an extension of himself.

Tactics is easier than he thought, in the end. He actually seems to have a knack for the practical part – his team's come in first or second in every rally so far, and have only lost one head to head battle to another team, and that was because Jo had a hangover and couldn't run full speed. 

He keeps up tutoring with Castiel, though, because the history part of the tactics is boring as hell, and he doesn't have it in him to study by himself. Studying with Castiel is better. It focuses him, keeps his mind from wandering. 

And he's been watching Castiel carefully during the rallies; he's sneaky. He's a hell of a scrapper too, but it's the way he gets around that's impressive, the way he's never where you'd expect him to be.

They start their Friday session going over the lab from the day before, and when Castiel explains how he figured out where the weak point in team six was and how he exploited, it, a compliment slips out. "Pretty good, Castiel."

Castiel groans. "What happened to Angelface?" He's smiling when he looks at Dean and Dean is confused and weirded out. Cas rolls his eyes and says, "Cas. _Please._ "

"Cas?" Dean asks, can't help laughing again.

"What, you think we go around calling each other by our full names all the time? 'Samandriel, pass me the toast.' 'Balthazar, it's your turn to feed the cats.'"

"You have cats?" 

Dean's just messing with him now, but oh, it's _delightful_.

"We all have cats, yes," Castiel says, shifting from side to side a couple times like he doesn't want to explain, but can't help himself. "We're all given a kitten at birth. It's… like a spirit animal or something, I don't know. I just know that we take care of them and they take care of us."

"Hmm," Dean says, grinning at Castiel for a minute before he catches himself and looks down at his book. Cats. How dumb. "How many brothers and sisters do you have, anyway? Fifty?"

"Ha ha," Castiel says, annoyed. "Two brothers and two sisters. And something like thirty first cousins."

"Whoa. You guys really do breed like rabbits."

"Nonsense," Castiel says, taking Dean's book away and forcing him to look up. "We tend to have largish families, but nothing that out of the ordinary. My dad has six brothers and a sister, and each of them have kids except Zachariah, because he's kind of a dick. Most of them have at least four kids, that's twenty-four right there, and Joshua has seven. It's basic math Winchester; don't tell me your mathematical education has been as lacking as your tactics training."

It's a dig – and a solid one, too, everyone knows Sam's the brains of the family, but it doesn't really sound like an insult coming from Castiel, and he finds himself answering honestly. "No, we just… don't have a big family. And you guys are a little easy to pick out, with the wings and all. Makes you look like you're everywhere."

Castiel snorts. "We _are_ everywhere." It sounds wistful. Castiel is looking down at Dean's book, obviously not really seeing it. Dean wants to ask him what that means but he reminds himself he doesn't care. Castiel might be one of the Angels that killed his dad, he has no way of knowing. He doesn't believe it, though.

Luckily Castiel comes back to himself before Dean has to say anything because Dean had absolutely no idea what might come out of his mouth. Maybe Castiel has an extra superpower, and it's draining all the cool from a room. 

"But none of that helps with your tactics, so we should get back to it."

~~~

_"But why Angelface?"_

"Because I was off my game the first time I tried to insult him, okay?"

_"Angelface?! Dean, that's the opposite of an insult!"_

"I _know_ , dumbass, I just told you I was off my game."

_"Uh huh. And why was that again?"_

"Shut up. This isn't funny. You're an asshole."

 _"_ I'm _an asshole? Are you even listening to yourself?"_

"Shut up. I hate you."

_"I know. I've learned to live with it."_

~~~

"You know I'm not supposed to," Bobby says as he crankily eats his salad, "And I can't believe you're asking."

"Come on, Bobby, it's _important_." Dean's eating his typical burger and fries and Bobby is looking at them longingly. Karen put him on a diet (at the doc's insistence) a few months ago, and Bobby looks completely miserable. Dean offers a fry.

Bobby shakes his head. "Just because I half-raised you doesn't mean I'm a pushover."

 _Yes it does_ , but Dean doesn't point that out. "It could mean the difference between graduating or not," Dean says, and Bobby shakes his head.

"You still planning on sticking with your grandfather? Or do you want to switch to Naomi's class? Because she's a tougher grader, you know."

"I know. And I need to stick it out with Samuel, you know I do." Bobby nods, and Dean takes that as a positive sign. "So I just need to make sure I end up in Hannah's lab section, and not Castiel's."

"They're both Angels – I don't see why you think it'll make a difference."

It makes _all_ the difference. Dean can't even begin to explain why. 

"Fine," Bobby says, "I'll see what I can do. But the Tactics department is seriously buttoned up. I'm not sure I'll be able to do it. You'd probably be better off asking Castiel – if you two have a real grievance, he can probably ask to have you put in someone else's lab."

"No," Dean says. "I can't. He'd put me in his just to spite me."

"Dean, I've seen that kid. Hell, he aced all his classes with me and was more polite than ninety percent of the Angels I've had come through here. I don't understand what the problem is."

"I can't explain it." When Dean looks up at Bobby, he gives him the absolute best pair of puppy dog eyes he can. Not as good as Sam's, but Bobby's still a sucker for them.

"Fine," Bobby says, "but I make no promises."

"You'll find a way," Dean says, and Bobby rolls his eyes and grabs the check.

~~~

_"You're being ridiculous, you know that, right?"_

"No."

_"You'll have to see him either way."_

"Not as much."

_"He'll still be your tutor."_

"I'll ask for a new one."

_"And risk getting Rachel? I'm pretty sure she'd feed you wrong information just to see you fail."_

"Can she do that?"

_"Well, she's not supposed to, but from what you've told me so far, restraint doesn't seem to be her middle name."_

"There are other tutors."

 _"Yeah, but you_ like _Castiel, and he's good for your study habits. Just stick it out. It's only another semester and a half."_

"I don't like Castiel. I just hate him less than all the rest of the Angels."

_"You like him. You call him Angelface."_

"You're a jerk."

_"And you're being a little bitch. Stop it and ask him out already."_

~~~

Dean's not the only one who hates the Angels. Dick Roman is famous for it, and there are a bunch of his kids at school. Edgar, in particular, looks at every Angel like he'd like to rip their wings off.

Normally he'd support that kind of thing, but there's a difference between the kind of menacing stares and threatening posturing he gets up to with the Angels and the way Edgar will creepily stalk the smaller Angels until they're alone and beat them to a pulp. 

As he's walking across the green, he sees Edgar and three of his most annoying brothers surrounding Samandriel, and while he might normally pretend not to notice, Samandriel is on his tactics team and he kinda needs the kid.

He saunters over, making it clear that he doesn't really care about the Angel, though when he gets close enough to see that they're ripping feathers out of his wings, he goes a little faster. 

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" Dean asks, shouldering his way in to stand next to Samandriel. He crowds as close to Dean as he can, going semi-transparent. Dean'll quiz him later on why he didn't go invisible sooner. 

"Why don't you mind your own business?" Edgar asks, grabbing a handful of Samandriel's feathers. Dean can feel him quivering as he clings on. 

There's no time to think – Dean's going to have to shield them until Edgar and his bullies get bored or until help comes. He does a quick yo-yo of invulnerability to his fist, knocking Edgar's hand away, and grabs Samandriel roughly, curling him up so he's underneath Dean's body. He puts up his invulnerability just in time to make the super-strength blows on his back feel like nothing more than a pleasant massage.

His endurance has gotten much better with the powers training, and he will never, _ever_ let Victor know that, so he could hang out like this for an hour or more if he had to. He's hoping Edgar gets bored and moves on, and that Samandriel isn't claustrophobic. 

The beating stops suddenly, and Dean can hear shouting, definitely Hannah, maybe another Angel or two he can't immediately recognize. It doesn't take long before someone is trying to peel him off of Samandriel. He hopes they've got it under control, because with his head down like this, there's just no way for him to know. 

When he finally gets to standing, there are four Angels standing around, and Hannah is checking Samandriel over, looking at his wings carefully. She has a bald spot too, presumably where Edgar or one of his brothers got in a cheap shot. 

Castiel is holding his wing in exactly the same place, though he doesn't seem to have been injured. "Thank you," Rachel says to him, and his eyebrows don't freeze over, so that's something.

"Sammy," Hannah says finally, brushing Samandriel's hair out of his face and pulling him in for a hug. A shiver goes down Dean's spine. He hasn't called Sam that for a while – it's reserved for near-death and extreme fondness, but he can't help the automatic feeling of missing his brother. 

"I'm okay," Samandriel says, reaching a hand out toward Dean. "Thanks to Dean."

Dean slugs him on his shoulder – lightly – and shrugs. "No biggie. Gotta stand up for my teammate, right?"

"Right," Samandriel says, smiling at him over the top of Hannah's head.

"Let's get you home," Rachel says, slipping herself under one of his arms, and forcing Hannah to do the same on the other side. 

Hannah glances over her shoulder at Castiel, who is still standing next to Dean, looking a little flummoxed. "Coming, Cas?"

Castiel turns to look at her and Dean could swear she smirks at him. "In a little while," he says. 

"Don't stay out too late," Balthazar says as he brushes past them, and he's _definitely_ smirking. Dean doesn't like this, at all.

"Shut up, Balt," Castiel says, and then shouts, "And take care of those feathers, Hannah!"

She snorts something undignified and turns around to keep walking.

~~~

_"You're hiding in the bathroom?"_

"No, dumbass, I just wanted to call you, and not in front of the dick Angel."

_"The dick Angel you call Angelface."_

"Well, it kinda stuck."

_"Mmm hmm."_

"Shut up."

_"So you're out to coffee with your Angelface because you saved his little brother from being beat up. And you're calling me because…"_

"I have no idea."

 _"Oh, Dean, that's adorable. Listen, you_ like _Castiel. The sooner you admit it, the sooner you can get to the fun stuff."_

"Stop it. I don't like Castiel."

_"Fine. Then go politely drink your coffee, milk it for all the extra credit you can, and say good night."_

"Maybe I will."

_"Mmm hmm."_

"Stop it with the _mmm hmm_ bullshit, Sam, I know what you're doing here."

_"I am doing nothing. You're the one hiding out in the bathroom on a not-coffee date with the guy you don't call Angelface."_

"You're such an asshole. I don't know why I ever took care of you."

_"Because I knew every single person who ever thought they might want to have sex with you, and I only bribed you with that information once in a great while."_

Right, Dean thinks. That was a pretty good reason. That and the kid was actually pretty great, despite Dad, despite his bullshit crazy-making mind-reading gift, despite how absolutely shit their lives were except for each other.

_"I love you too, Dean. Now go out there and talk to Angelface."_

Sam hangs up before Dean can reply with something scathing, so he just thinks it really loud. He's pretty sure Sam heard it.

~~~

"Who was that?" Castiel asks, pushing a mug over to Dean and taking a sip out of his own.

"Um, what?" Dean asks, grabbing his cup and sipping, loudly.

"Who did you call?"

"I, uh…." Dean looks up Castiel, trying to judge if the Angel is playing him. "How did you know I called someone?"

"The doors of the restroom are about as thick as a wet paper bag." 

"Oh, well," Dean stammers. He furiously goes over the conversation in his head, trying to figure out if he said anything he shouldn't have. "My brother. He likes to know when something big happens."

"I see," Castiel says, looking down into his mug and swirling it. "How is Sam?"

Dean starts, spilling his coffee onto his saucer a little. "You know Sam?"

Castiel gives a half-hearted shrug. "I did a tactics presentation to his senior class last year. He asked a lot of questions."

"Oh," Dean says, proud as always of Sam making an impression. "Well, yeah, he's smart."

"I could tell. I was sad to hear he was going to a mundane college, even one as renowned as Stanford. Though I am sure he will be successful."

Dean shrugs. "He likes helping people. He'd rather spend his time making a difference in the day to day. Somehow my parents made a kid that's not an adrenaline junkie."

Castiel frowns. "Or his gift has simply made him sympathetic to the mundane person's plight."

This is way too weird, Dean _never_ discusses Sam with anyone, and certainly not someone who actually knows something about him, or them, or their history. "Something I'm sure all you Angels totally understand." 

Castiel smirks for just a moment, but it turns into a genuine smile. "You understand it well enough too, I think. Thank you for saving _my_ little brother."

"Oh," Dean says, blinking. He hadn't realized Castiel was directly related to Samandriel. "So, was that your whole family then?"

"All my siblings." Castiel holds up fingers and counts. "Balt is the oldest, me and Hannah next, then Rachel, and Samandriel was…"

"An oopsie?"

"Unexpected." Castiel grins, taking another sip of his ridiculously foamy coffee drink.

"And when you says, 'me and Hannah' you mean –"

"We're twins. You didn't know?" 

Dean's starting to get uncomfortable. He doesn't care about this, why should he? And it's not like he wants to talk about his family. He should get out of here. 

"I gotta go," he says, standing up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "Thanks for the coffee."

"Thanks for saving my brother from that asshole."

"You're welcome." Dean can't help smiling, saying just loud enough for himself as he heads out the door, "Angelface."

~~~

_"How was your date?"_

"It wasn't a date."

_"Mmm hmm."_

"Stop it with the 'mmm hmm' shit."

_"Mmm hmm. Oh, what's that, Dean? You're going to watch Angelface do… what? What is that?_

"I hate you. It's the grad-level tactics practical. I have to watch it. It's for extra credit."

_"Mmm hmm."_

"You're such an asshole."

_"Yup. But I don't know why you're trying to lie to me. I mean, fine, lie to yourself if you want, but you know you can't lie to me."_

Dean doesn’t really have an answer for that. One of the worst things about having a mind-reader for a bratty little brother is that secrets are impossible. "Don't do that."

_"You know I can't help it. And I don't have to read your thoughts, Dean, your actions are speaking loud and clear. Man up. Ask him out."_

"Bitch."

_"Ask him out, Dean."_

~~~

There's a bunch of people gathered for the grad class. He doesn't know if it's normally this popular or if it's the extra credit, but when he sees Charlie and Kevin taking notes with their heads together, he makes his way over to sit with them. He can see Samandriel on the other side of the dome, sitting next to Balthazar, Hannah, Rachel, and a couple Dean can only assume are their parents.

"Hey," he says, leaning in to where Charlie and Kevin are comparing notes about the maze below. It's got a glass roof – keeping Angels and anyone else who can fly at a disadvantage. Dean'll be curious to see how Castiel gets around that.

The whistle blows and the teams enter from their respective doors. Speedy on the red team is off so quick Dean can't even tell who it is – until it finds Castiel. Or maybe Castiel found it? The Angel isn't anywhere near his entryway and the speedster – Jael – is on the ground, curled up like he's about to throw up. 

Dean's never seen Castiel work with people who weren't Angels. He'd figured Angels all work the same way – he's seen a familiarity between them in all the tactics labs so far – but Castiel working with a four-person, non-Angel team is interesting. It's entirely different than watching him work with a bunch of his relatives. 

He's sneaky, for one. He tends to hide, high up, plastering himself to the ceiling. It's smart – not one of the other team has looked up yet, and he's taken two of them out. He's using his team's powers effectively, too. He's got someone with some kind of audio that's broadcasting signals, but bouncing them off stuff so they're impossible to find. 

Dean hates to say he's impressed, but he's pretty impressed. He expected Castiel to be good. Great, even, considering he's a TA. But he hadn't expected him to be _interesting_.

The rest of Castiel's team is busy boxing Abaddon into a corner, somehow managing not to get hit by all the lightning flying around, and Castiel has dropped to the floor, hiding next to a wall that Edgar's on the other side of. Dean can't figure out why he's doing that – if he'd stayed up high, Edgar would've probably walked right under him, right into whatever surprise Castiel has in store.

As Edgar rounds the corner, his coat shifts and Dean can see the glint of metal. There aren't supposed to be any weapons in the dome, and Dean's on his feet before he even thinks about it, taking a running leap and swan dive at the glass ceiling of the maze, putting up his invulnerability like a punching gauntlet in front of him. He shifts it to a shield as soon as the glass is broken, keeping the shards of shattered glass from hurting anyone. Or at least hurting Castiel. 

He lands hard, and not having shifted his invulnerability to his feet, aching. He doesn't have time to think about it, though, because Edgar is attacking – just with his fists, but that's bad enough with his super-strength. Dean shifts the shield in front of himself, but before Edgar can connect, he falls flat on his face – tripped up by Victor, who'd taken on Jael's speed. 

The buzzer goes off and there are whistles everywhere, and as the situation crowds in on him, Dean suddenly feels incredibly stupid. Samuel is stalking into the maze glaring daggers, and Castiel is scowling at him.

"Why did you do that?" Castiel asks, not sounding quite as angry as he might, which should be a relief but is instead one more thing twisting its way into his guts.

Dean's mouth opens but there is no explanation that could possibly come out that would make any sense. He didn't think, not even for a millisecond. He'd just seen that flash… That flash! "Edgar has a weapon."

Samuel had been opening his mouth, probably to call Dean an idiot, which Dean pretty much feels like he deserves – what the hell even happened to him? – but shifts his gaze to Edgar and stalks over to pat him down. 

"There's no weapon." 

Dean turns around to give Grampa a piece of his mind, but Edgar's still trussed up on the ground and whatever Dean thought he saw, there's clearly nothing under his jacket now.

"We'll discuss this with the Dean tomorrow," Samuel says. "Team blue forfeits due to interference from an outside party, and lab is over until we get this cleaned up." He gets right in Dean's face, growling low. "And I have no idea what got into you, but if you want to pass my class, you will have a hell of a lot of work in front of you."

~~~

Dean's barely turned away from the mess in the dome before his phone starts buzzing in his pocket. He doesn't have to look at it to know it's Sam. He doesn't bother to answer.

~~~

"Wait up!"

Dean ignores Castiel. He's an idiot – even if Edgar'd had a knife, Castiel probably would've been able to hold his own – just watching him in the maze should have told Dean that. "Leave me alone, Angelface."

"Dean," Castiel says, and Dean just keeps on walking.

"Dean, stop," Castiel says, grabbing onto Dean's arm. 

It's not like Dean couldn't keep going if he wanted to. He could walk right out of this place and go back to doing what he was doing while he put Sam through high school. He doesn't need this shit. He certainly doesn't need whatever steaming pile of crap Castiel is going lay on him.

"I said, leave me alone." 

"No," Castiel says, yanking on Dean's arm to turn him around. Dean goes, because he's already made a fool of himself. He's pretty sure it's because he's got a thing for his TA and he just tanked his entire college career because of it. After that, what else is there?

"Fine," Dean says, "What do you want?" He can't meet Castiel's eyes. If he does, he'll do something incredibly stupid.

"What happened in there?" It's so much the opposite of what he expects that he involuntarily looks up.

Damn it. Those eyes should be illegal.

He sighs. "Does it matter? I should just withdraw now, while I can still get an incomplete instead of an F."

"Dean. I know exactly how hard you've been working to do well in this class." Castiel drops his gaze and Dean can finally breathe again. "And I know that you have good instincts." 

"I told you," Dean says, shrugging, looking down at his shoes. "Edgar had a weapon. A knife or something in his jacket." 

Castiel's face changes. His hand drops from Dean's arm. "Dean, there was nothing there. You saw for yourself."

"I saw, yeah," Dean agrees, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. He knows his shoulders are crawling up around his ears. He can't seem to help it. "I also saw him sneaking up on you, and you didn't see it, and –"

_Oh my god._

"And I'm an idiot. You totally knew."

Castiel shrugs, smiling and flicking a glance up at Dean nervously. "Apparently I'm a convincing damsel in distress. I appreciate the gesture."

Dean rolls his eyes. "I swear he had something, though. I wouldn't have interfered if I thought you were just going to get pounded." 

Castiel's phone rings and he takes it out of his pocket, staring down at the number. "Hello?" 

_"Hey, Angelface, will you let me talk to my brother?"_

Dean can hear Sam's voice loud and clear across the distance between them and he groans.

"Excuse me?"

"Give it here, Angelface," Dean says, taking the phone out of Castiel's hand when he's too slow on the uptake.

"What is it, Samantha?"

_"Cute, Dean. What the hell did you do?"_

"Made a fool out of myself by rescuing someone who didn't need rescuing from someone who was about as dangerous as a pissed-off kitten."

_"Was the rescue-ee Angelface?"_

"Seriously? You're going to tease me about this now? On Castiel's dime?"

_"Of course. But that's not why I'm calling."_

"What, then?"

_"I just wanted to tell you that you were right."_

"What?"

Before Sam can explain what the hell he's talking about, Castiel yells "Dean!" and Dean turns just as everything seems to go into adrenaline-fueled slow motion. Castiel hits him flat-handed in the solar plexus, sending him flying. He lands on his ass and skids another three feet, the whole time watching in horror as Edgar raises an Angel blade to stab Castiel.

He can't get there, it's too far, and Castiel's name is ripped out of him in fear.

Just before the blade sinks into Castiel, the Angel drops faster than anyone Dean's ever seen – except a speedster – and takes out Edgar's legs with an easy sweep. Dean can hardly believe his eyes.

He gets moving, though, because Edgar may be down, but Castiel has no way to keep him down, and Edgar will just get up and try again. Dean gets in front of Castiel, putting up his invulnerability like a shield, relieved when Castiel turns around, his back against Dean's, making sure they're not getting snuck up on. 

"Samuel is coming," Castiel shouts, and Dean hopes to hell it's for Edgar, because he's far from being in Samuel's good graces right now.

Edgar squints meanly at him as the blade disappears into thin air. His sarcastic smile is one of triumph as he turns away and jogs for the back of the parking lot.

Dean leaves his invulnerability up – he's not taking any chances with Edgar – and when Samuel finally arrives, Cole and the rest of Dean's team are in tow, Dean finally gets it. One of the Roman clan must have invisibility. You'd think they checked that sort of thing in the dome. Heat sensors or something. 

"You all right, Winchester?" Meg asks. "Cole saw Pete hanging out in the dome, invisible, after your little stunt, thought maybe we should check on you."

"Thanks for that," Dean says, finally lowering his invulnerability when Samuel and his team continue past him and Castiel without further comment, following Edgar. 

_"Dean!"_

Sam's tinny voice finally registers and Dean looks down at his hand. He still has the phone clutched in it. He takes a couple of deep breaths before answering. "Yeah, sorry."

_"Are you all right?"_

"Yeah, fine. Edgar came back. Castiel saved my ass, pushing me out of the way. Guess I'm the damsel in distress today."

_"Well, tell Angelface thank you for me."_

"For what?"

_"For saving my dumbass big brother."_

"Ha ha. This just makes us even, really."

_"Dean, one more thing."_

"Yeah?"

_"Skip asking him out. Just kiss him."_

Dean hangs up. There's no need to say goodbye, Sam heard his _kiss my ass_ loud and clear. He holds the phone out to Castiel. "Sorry, Angelface. My brother can be a little rude if I don't answer the phone."

"You told your brother that you call me Angelface?"

"He knew. He's annoying like that."

"I see." Castiel takes hold of the phone and Dean doesn't let go. "Anything else?"

"That was some incredible speed you had there." Dean's been going over the whole encounter in his mind, wondering how the hell Castiel got the drop on Edgar like that.

"I can sense intention," Castiel says, softly into the dwindling space between them. "It's not a fully formed type of precog, just a glimpse. Comes in handy."

"Uh huh," Dean says, leaning into Castiel's space. "So you know what I'm going to do next, here."

Castiel grins. "Not if I beat you to it."

When they finally meet in the middle, halfway between Dean's forward momentum and Castiel's anticipation, Dean's phone buzzes in his pocket.

 _"I'm busy, loser,_ Dean thinks, and sinks his fingers into the feathers of Castiel's wings, pulling him closer.

~~~


End file.
